First Cut is the Deepest
by Evie Warner
Summary: In theory, Genis isn't hard to understand. His heart is too big for his elfin frame, and it doesn't offer return tickets.


**Author's Note:** There's two sides to every story.

**Disclaimer:** Though Tales of Symphonia is an incredible game, the rights of it do not belong to me.

**Dedication:** For you, Xx-Synthetic-Cyanide-xX. (It's … late, I know. But it's finally done. Quite cathartic, this was.)

* * *

><p>"<em>You'll always be my best friend, Genis<em>."

Those are the words I preach. Each one is like a tiny blade that digs deeper into my chest whenever they're rebuked. It becomes hard to breathe, like fine cotton fills my lungs. But I keep urging them, telling him religiously, because it comes down to a simple fact:

I mean them.

But Genis doesn't, and that's so alien. How could he not? For years, we'd built up trust and love as the foundation of our _ever-lasting_ friendship, but one swift change caused that sturdiness to rot, leaving a crumbling tower in its wake.

I'd read about this feeling in all those melodramatic romance novels, about how _it's like something inside me evaporated and I don't know how to replace it_. Hollow. I feel hollow. Not entirely, not like my entire world has imploded, but like I've woken up from a sleeping spell to find someone's hacked away at a piece inside me. Stolen it, perhaps. Things make so much sense with a clear mind, free of the forced drowsiness, but that doesn't make it easy to believe.

I _can't_ believe it. How can I … ?

XxXxX

Genis was noticeable—that was my first thought on him. He fit into the village and meshed well with the lifestyle, but he was guarded. He and Raine were _half-breeds_, a stain on purebred society. Can't say I ever understood all that racism "justification" but I counted them lucky that folks in Iselia are more tolerant.

Yes, they were discriminated, (I said tolerant, not open-minded) but it was never outright hostility. Trust me, that's a big luxury in this world.

Still, Genis and Raine were pretty cool: she got a job as a teacher in the local school and Genis _breathed_ pages of an encyclopaedia. It made sense, considering they'd travelled around a lot and Genis was the kinda kid who dove head-first into his studies, but damn, was that kid always smart.

Raine quickly gained respect for her occupation, but Genis was … lonely. He never had friends or anyone to talk to. No one wanted to socialize with a _freak_.

I knew that feel. Well, not to that extent, but there have always been people who've given me crap about being raised by Dirk. Besides, who said I had to know exactly how the kid felt to want to make him considerably less unaccepted than he already was?

I made an effort to talk to him: he was nice right off the bat, but while he didn't trust me, he also didn't hate me. So I kept coming back; I partnered up with him on group projects, shared lunch with him, passed him notes when Raine wasn't looking. He wound up trusting me. There weren't any secrets between us, no boundaries—just the two of us, bromance for life!

Then Colette came along.

Though by that I mean she was always there. It was more that we both knew she was there to stay. She's great and all: smart, pretty, and we had a lot in common. (And she has that **chosen one** thing going on—in what universe _isn't_ that cool?) I don't think she and Genis interacted much. Not 'cause she didn't want to meet him, but she had her own life going on and Genis had a long way to go before he got chummy with anyone else.

Colette easily became someone I knew I wanted to stick around for. She had her _chosen one_ thing going on, so real interaction with her was something of a rarity. But it was enough for it to affect Genis. He'd told me before how he'd had a few friends prior to Iselia, that they'd always wound up back-stabbing him and never looked back. That he'd been replaced more often than not. Who can blame him for wanting to avoid the heartbreak?

I never ignored Genis. I never wanted to replace him. It was unthinkable! But perspective can be a cruel thing. I didn't even notice how bad it was affecting him to see (what he thought was) me getting chummy with Colette and preparing to brush him under the carpet. Sure, he was a bit more downbeat than usual, but everyone has their off-days.

I was beyond stupid. To Genis, history was repeating itself. He refused to put himself through that pain again. He wouldn't listen to reason when I pleaded otherwise, offered _proof_ that I never once _thought_ of replacing him.

On some level, I knew it wouldn't work.

In theory, Genis isn't hard to understand: his heart is too big for his elfin frame, and it doesn't offer return tickets.

Not that I can blame him. Years of having to fight against discrimination, struggling to accept a part of himself he never wanted and can't change, being betrayed by the people he let closest to him—you just don't _get over_ that stuff. Genis is the kindest, most loyal person you could ever meet in a thousand lifetimes, but his trust doesn't come easily. And once you break it? No refunds, no second lives, no backtracking. **Game over.**

XxXxX

I'd always believed perception of time adjusted itself to my mood: it shot by when I was happy, and dragged like treacle on a cold day when I was downbeat.

But now I don't think that's strictly true.

Time flies by fastest when you desperately need it to slow down, and vice versa.

The morning after Genis left, I didn't leave my bed. I slept through my alarm, so instead woke up to Dirk nudging me, urging me to get up to tend to the day's workload. And that's when I folded, when it felt like someone was squeezing a lemon in the back of my throat, and my room became blurred from my perspective.

I wasn't quick enough to hide the first tears that fell, but I draped my arm over my face, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to keep it together.

"I can't. Not today—I … I'll make it up tomorrow. Next week. Just _not today_."

Dirk wanted to ask what'd gotten me blubbering (I didn't have to see him to figure that out) but any questions he had, he kept to himself. "Tomorrow, then?"

I nodded, my face still covered and my eyes still shut, not trusting myself to speak. But it was almost like an afterthought that I muttered, "Yeah," without consciously meaning to.

He patted my bare arm, lingering for a moment before he got up to leave. I didn't release my breath until I heard the door close behind him. Then I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow so I could cry it out.

Dammit, I _wanted_ to cry; to let it all out and end up feeling ten pounds lighter because of it. But the tears that drizzled out felt forced. The dam holding back my breakdown refused to budge until it was fit to burst. So I lay there and sniffled into my pillow, scrubbing away the moisture the second it appeared.

XxXxX

It lasted until sundown.

That whole day passed in a daze, and I'm not sure half of it even happed. I told Dirk I wasn't hungry, before I climbed back into bed and curled up. I was so tired, so exhausted from living with what Genis decided … I buried my face into my pillow and I let myself cry.

It was quiet sniffling for a while until Dirk came back up to check on me. I'd refused to speak to him all day about this. His concern was justified, but I didn't care. It just made me angry on top of everything else.

That was my breaking point.

He left when I told him to. The moment I heard the door close, the dams broke and I burst into a big, fat cry. Tears wouldn't quit falling from my eyes, but I tried to keep quiet. If I made a noise then I wouldn't have solitude. It hurt, but I could deal with this. I just needed to be alone.

It didn't work. As much as I smothered my face in my pillow, ashamed to let anyone see my face when I was like this, it was a loud cry. It was a _painful_ cry. But as much as it hurt, I couldn't stop.

Dirk came back. Repeatedly. He asked what was wrong, if I wanted to talk about it, but I could barely string two words together. I just wept into my damp pillow and indicated for him to **just leave me alone**. He left for ten, maybe fifteen minutes before he came back and sat on the edge of my bed.

I continued to cry. He patted my shoulder, asking what had gotten me into such a state. Then he left when I indicated for him to go.

On one hand, I wanted to tell him. To confess everything and get it all off my chest. But shame welled up inside me and squeezed more tears from my eyes. Genis wasn't the type of guy who cut people out of his life on impulse, there was _always a reason_ if he ever let someone go.

If I told Dirk … no matter how it came out, it would always feel like I was bad-mouthing Genis, tarnishing his _perfect_ rep by unwillingly painting him out to be a jerk with no empathy. And I'd be admitting I was a total failure on that end. I betrayed the trust Genis placed in me. I stabbed him in the back.

No. No, that wasn't true. More like I stepped aside and ignored the knife that embedded itself in his back. I didn't intervene and save him. I didn't offer him a healing tool. I looked the other way and let him bleed out as the wound became infected.

XxXxX

I never told Dirk. Not really.

Instead I wrote a letter. Two letters: one to Dirk and one to Genis.

I guess I'd have been embarrassed about what I wrote in the first one—a jumble of emotion spilled out onto paper through hastily scribbled handwriting—but Dirk took it well. Too well. I got angry again, because I kind of _wanted_ him to be a tad … not angry or aversive to it, but to have some reaction that wasn't **complete understanding.**

I told him about a little crush I had when I was ten. About a silly summer fling I had at fifteen. How I might have been taken by Colette's beauty and charm, but there was never a hope I would consider her anything but a good friend. That I didn't have a likeness for the opposite gender.

So in the night I broke down over losing Genis forever, I covered up the shame of failing my best friend by coming out to my Dad.

I yelled at Dirk. He was patient. And I ended up burying my face into his shoulder. He stayed with me as I cried it all out.

XxXxX

I woke up late the next day. Dirk officially called me in sick, and I was grateful he let me stay in. I was a total wreck. I fell asleep the night before with a killer headache, and it hadn't eased up much by the next morning.

My _face_ hurt from all that yelling at crying, my cheeks were red and puffy, and my eyes were glued shut with sleepy gunk. So I took an extra-long shower, scrubbing every inch of my skin and giving my hair a deep, much needed wash. I took ages drying myself off, making the bed, and organizing every corner of my room that my hair had naturally dried out by the end of it.

I stayed upstairs, locked away in my room, for the whole day. Yes, it was pathetic, but I needed the time to myself. Dirk didn't call me when I skipped out on lunch. That day was dedicated to me gearing myself up to face the world beyond Genis.

I hated it. Genis had always been the best friend I ever had—our friendship was deeper than anything Colette and I could have shared—and losing it so harshly, _so finally_ was pain beyond a knife in the gut. It wasn't even physical pain.

Emotional pain has always been the worst kind, in my opinion. I could have dulled a physical anguish with a dose of strong pain killers, or fallen asleep and at least had some time away from the mental torment …

But the emotional pain was always there, even when I was asleep. My dreams weren't even of Genis, yet they always hurt. There was never any relief.

I felt jealousy through the shame. Genis had been desensitized to the harsh realities of life. He could wake up and continue on like I'd never been around. Would he spare a thought about me? At some point in the future—in a few months, years, or decades—could Genis end up reconsidering? He'd forgiven a friend once before, someone he didn't want to be without, so did I have a valid hope the same could happen with me?

I was kidding myself. Maybe. I should have been brutally honest and accepted this was it, but there was a scrap of false hope dangling in front of me and I snatched at it without a second thought. It wasn't healthy, but it gave me a fraction of relief believing that somewhere along the line, Genis would end up back in my life.

Stupid, I know.

XxXxX

That letter I wrote him? I had it neatly printed out on a clean sheet of paper. I had mixed feelings about it. I could imagine Genis skimming over the page and rolling his eyes, growing ever more irritated that I _just wouldn't accept it_. That mental picture came too easily. I _wanted_ to get through to him, to convince him that I would do everything it took to have him back. Perhaps things wouldn't be quite like they used to be, but it had to be enough, right?

**Stupid.**

I couldn't let go of that false hope, that lifeline, so when I packed up two of Genis' books (which he'd loaned to me ages ago) I folded the letter and placed it neatly with them. On top of the covers, so he couldn't miss it when he opened the package. I sealed it all up before I could reconsider and regret.

XxXxX

Sunday: a full week since Genis and I had spoken. I was confident that I could make it. That _maybe_ I was beginning to adjust to the idea of not having him as a consistent force in my life.

It wasn't a good feeling, but it was the best I had. If Genis wasn't sticking around anymore, then I wasn't going to let myself dwell on it. I was sick of being so friggin' sensitive to this.

I spent most of the morning on my worn laptop, purely for the sake of distracting myself. Dirk was out recollecting supplies and I hadn't been conscious enough to agree to join him. I could've asked him to drop Genis' package off for delivery, but thinking about it, I wasn't sure if the mail room was open anyway.

The three previous days had been progressive. _Distracting_. I got my rear in gear and left the house. I continued my routine. It was better than moping around, but I was so done with that. Break-ups—romantic and platonic—happened all the time. It sucked, but it wasn't the end of the world.

Martel help me, I sound so melodramatic. But it really _did_ feel like there was nothing beyond today. I don't even have the words for it. The world, _my future_, all seemed grey and repetitive knowing Genis wouldn't be in it. It terrified me, to the level I doubted I could survive it without him there.

Was I dependant on Genis? No, I wouldn't say I had been. But it hurt. I knew that while it would take time, I'd manage to get over this.

I couldn't wait for the day I would wake up and look forward to what awaited me.

XxXxX

An email came through that afternoon.

By default, I assumed it was from one of the random subscriptions or updates I barely remember applying for at some point or another, but I was curious enough to spare a second to check it out anyway.

Anxiety crippled me as I saw the name on the address. **Genis**. I'd never thought his name could plant dread in my stomach, but the proof is in the pudding, it seemed.

Given our last communication, I immediately expected the message to be something vicious. That I'd unknowingly done something to hurt him enough to warrant him the need to contact me about it.

Ignoring it would have been the easy option, to toss it straight in the virtual trash, pretend it never existed, and spend who knows how long wondering what he had to say. Blame it on the servers if he got back to me. But I forced myself to open the email before my brain could catch up and stop me.

_Good afternoon._

_I just realized that you still have some of my books that I need for my studies. Could I have them back please? Much appreciated._

_Genis_

Indifference.

Irritation at having to remind me that, y'know, he wanted his stuff back at some point. Out of the possession of someone he'd cut off like a diseased arm.

It was a little relieving to know he was all about business here. No brazen snappiness, no poorly hidden insults—

—so relieving it actually hurt a little.

_I'm one step ahead of you, I already have them packed, and will send them tomorrow for you. I figured you'd want them back in the end. Xx_

It was natural to add the kisses at the end. Too natural, perhaps. There was a brief moment where I considered erasing them, but I held back.

Resignation: proof that I was as done with this as he was. Genis might not have any trust left in me, but it still existed on my side. I wasn't going to change just because circumstances had.

I sent the email, imagining Genis opening it up on his end, stony-faced but inwardly satisfied the matter had been sorted quickly. He'd always been freakishly fast at typing: a reply popped up not long after.

_Thank you. I hope you get everything you want in life_.

Blunt and to the point. More indifference. Common courtesy, really: like retail workers who say "_I hope you find everything you're looking for_" but their concerns lie purely on when the next lunch break is. Politeness because they have to be, not because of personal preference.

It drilled right home.

I probably should have closed the window and gone on with my plans like he'd never contacted me. Technically, nothing had changed; Genis just wanted his stuff back. But I found myself replying. It was too easy to spill out sheer honesty, even being kept under the knowledge that no matter what words I strung together, it all meant naught to him.

_You too, Genis. I will always miss you, but I understand this is what you need, so I won't antagonize you further. I'm sorry for everything I did, but I wish you luck in the future. You were the greatest friend I ever had. Xx_

What was I hoping for? Was I so naïve to think that reinforcing the words Genis already didn't believe would eventually gnaw the truth into his brain and have him do a complete U-turn?

This was **Genis**, the former best friend who hated me for betraying his trust.

But I _was_ hoping. That maybe—_just maybe_—at some point in our future, he'd find his way back. By being persistent, I felt like I kept pushing him further away. I couldn't take that first step toward reconciling: I was too much of a coward to try.

I'd take Genis' indifference any day over his hatred. And for that, I nearly didn't send that email. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid, and clinging to a scrap of false hope wasn't healthy to _getting over it_. But though my heart was fluttering like a trapped butterfly, my hands weren't shaking as I tapped send.

Call me an idiot, call me naïve, call me a glutton for punishment … but for Genis, I'm willing to take a chance.

XxXxX


End file.
